


Old Allies

by poisonapplecat



Series: Chain of Command [4]
Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:08:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23082238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisonapplecat/pseuds/poisonapplecat
Summary: Wherein the past is discussed without actually thinking about it.--Back on my self-indulgent writing spree lol
Series: Chain of Command [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1519913





	Old Allies

**Author's Note:**

> Why is this so much longer than the last three???
> 
> No clue. Had more angst to ramble about, I guess

**Old Allies**

Devryth Earl, Human, Dragonhunter/Firebrand, Wanderlust Incarnate, The Commander

Hathrin Vione, Human, Mirage, The “Violet Witch”, ex-Vigil Crusader

The cabin was, outwardly, unremarkable. 

Made of simple, dark wood, it was a comfortable size and seemed as though the forest was halfway to reclaiming it, trees leaning in too close and vines and moss climbing the walls. The trees here were thick and close enough to obscure it from a distance and, even up close, the cabin seemed too taken by nature to host any living person conveniently.

If not for the information he’d received weeks ago, Devryth would’ve walked on past it, paying no mind to whomever it’s inhabitants had been.

Deep down, he wished that were the case. He wouldn’t deny that a part of him feared to enter this place; the same part of him that was drawn to the color red and would forever be. Dwelling on this side of him, however, did him no good. He couldn't afford to hesitate when he saw red -- mostly, he only saw it in battle nowadays, belonging to fallen comrades and enemies alike -- and he couldn’t afford to turn back now. Too much had been put into making this journey.

Instead, he brought forth the part of himself that dared to be hopeful: The part that relived past memories with warm nostalgia in place of a hollow ache, the part that saw the beauty in red; the part that saw this visit as more than a strategic move.

If he was lucky, he’d have a new friend by the end of the day.

Well, “new” wasn’t exactly the right word.

Taking a deep breath, Devryth mustered all his strength and, taking a step forward--

“Oh, come in already!” Came the voice he’d been so apprehensive to hear from within the cabin, sharper than he’d expected and softer than he’d hoped for. “I thought you Vigil men were supposed to charge in swords first.”

Devryth cleared his throat and made his way, oh so cautiously, to the cabin’s door. “In battle, I might be guilty of such. But not when visiting old… friends.”

The door opened ever so slightly, one acute eye gazing through the crack. Though almost unfamiliar, Devryth knew in his heart he’d seen it before. Childhood memories, however, told him this eye should be a deep, welcoming brown. The memories, like most others of his life spent in Divinity’s Reach, were outdated.

Locking stares with the intense violet, he was sure of that much.

“Hello, Hathrin,” he greeted, mustering a smile through his discomfort. 

The eye widened, as did the door to reveal the face the eye belonged to. The familiarity of it was offset only by the hair and the overall severe countenance. 

“Devryth…” the woman breathed out, expression revealing naught but mild shock. “Now, that’s a face I never thought I’d see again. I’d heard rumors the Commander was a handsome blonde but… well, I didn’t hold my breath.”

“I wouldn’t have either,” Devyrth admitted, finally averting his gaze to inspect his mud-caked travel-boots. “I’ve gotten my hopes up too many times based on rumors of appearance. You… well, um, your... hair is nice. Can’t say I don't miss the brown, though.”

Hathrin hummed to herself. “Some days, I do too. It always reminded me of my mother's hair… But white strikes more fear into the hearts of idiots, so I think it’s an even trade.”

Devryth chanced a smile up at the woman before his thoughts caught back up with him. “Unfortunately, I haven’t come all this way to talk about hair.”

“Oh, so now you wander with reason?” Her voice bit at him, tearing on his frayed nerves.

It was a fair point. But still…

“Sometimes, reason is only found later,” Devryth muttered to himself, defensive of his past actions in spite of it all. “I’ve long since found mine.”

There was a substantial silence. Then, with a heavy sigh, Hathrin’s door creaked open wider. “Oh, alright. Get in here already. It’s _cold_ out. Since when do _you_ go light on the extra layers?”

He couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up in his throat as he accepted the invitation, stepping into the blissfully warm interior and taking an appraising once-over. “Ever since I actually put on some muscle and didn’t need clothes to make me look stronger?”

The cabin was larger than he’d thought it was -- than he thought it _could_ be. The rough, overgrown exterior held no sway inside: The walls were intact, what he’d thought were boarded up windows let in far more light than the current weather should provide, and the furniture was fresh and soft-looking. Violet, unsurprisingly, covered much of the interior’s decorations. Devryth had to wonder if the fabrics and paints were real or if they were just an illusion. 

The spellbooks, scrolls, and various magical artifacts stacked up and scattered around the space were definitely real, though. Even from a distance, he could sense a faint power to some.

Far and away, though, the fireplace to his right was the best bit. It wasn’t very grand or pretty, but it was fire. Warm, comforting, and red. He couldn’t ask for anything better.

Hathrin’s scoff brought his attention back to the woman as she closed the door. “Please. For such a big-shot hero, you still look like you spend most of your time holed up in your room reading books. Aren’t you Vigil men supposed to be more brawny?”

Said “big-shot hero” puffed out his chest a bit. “I’m plenty brawny!”

“Where’d your jacket go?” She reiterated with a roll of her eyes.

Devryth deflated. “Fine! Yes, normally I would dress better for such cold weather and yes, normally, I would try to make a better impression. But the trek here was more than a little chaotic and there was someone who needed my jacket more at the time.”

Not that the woman could really talk about fashion, in Devryth’s opinion. Back in the day, she’d been one of the most well-dressed commoners he’d ever known. Now? Well, perhaps Devryth simply didn’t get the appeal of the style, but he’d much rather stick to his soft blues, blacks, and whites than venture into her deep violets, pastel roses, and toxic blues.

And that was without mentioning her outfit itself looked far more like something out of Solicass’ ceremonial wear, if a bit less dreary and death-obsessed.

He wasn’t the only one taking time to assess. Hathrin’s eyes were scrutinizing him just as much and, honestly, he didn’t really want to know what she thought.

“You’re still alone, then?”

Devryth couldn’t believe _she_ was the one asking that, given their current location.

“Of course I’m not alone,” he denied with a vehement shake of his head. “I’ve made quite the group of allies and, well, friends, of a sort. I’d be long gone without them.”

“But you're not with him.”

Five words. It only took five words to make his breath catch in his throat and his heart clench. In retrospect, he should've been prepared for this conversation. Hathrin had been the only person from his childhood who'd been outright friendly to--

Even his inner thoughts weren't prepared.

Devryth took a deep, shuddering breath. “No… I… Have you heard--”

“He left Divinity's Reach,” she cut him off. “Early on. By Lyssa, _I_ was still there when he left…”

Devryth nodded slowly. “Yeah. I heard from Logan years back. I've never heard anything else.”

Her eyes were louder than the fireplace as her gaze amplified but, just when Devryth wondered if he should start worrying for his safety, she deflated. 

“I used to think you were so smart, Dev," she spoke quietly, voice even and clipped. "I felt so trapped back there and one day, you just disappeared. It took us all a while to figure it out but, when we realized you were off to see the world? That was when most of us knew we couldn't stay forever. There was a time-bomb ticking down on all of us. I didn't mind.”

Devryth startled a bit at the information. “All of you? Who's _all of you_?”

Hathrin rolled her eyes. “Don't tell me you've forgotten their names.”

“Never!” He denied, frankly a little disheartened by the suggestion. “Just… _all_?”

“Don't be modest. It doesn't suit you,” Hathrin shot back. Then, her voice turned softer than it had for the entire conversation. “It's just… you were always the one with all the skills and smarts and promise. There wasn't a single kid in the Salma District, street rat or nobility, who didn't look up to you and, even as we got older, that didn't go away. It just took until Red left to realize what it actually meant.”

“What what meant?”

“Leaving. Running away and making a name for yourself. Chasing ghosts and betting your life on the blade. Going on adventures. Whatever you call it… it means being alone.”

Devryth wasn't alone. He had friends and allies. There were people he'd give his life for and who, despite his grievances, would return the sentiment. He hadn't been without support for a long time.

But there was nobody like _him_ . Nobody to sneak out at night with and swap secrets. Nobody to chat with for hours with no real subject in mind. There was nobody he felt tired with, or sad with, or even really _known_ with. Nobody to laugh at when they tripped over nothing or to wake up next to or smile at for no reason whatsoever.

Devryth wasn't alone. But he wasn't _not_ alone, either.

“You don't need to be,” is what he said instead of spilling his heart because he was an idiot and his heart couldn't take much more. “You were with the Vigil, once. They'd welcome you back in a heartbeat.” But that wasn't what he was there for. “Or…”

“You've come to offer me a place in the Pact,” Hathrin finished, not sounding even slightly surprised that he'd changed the subject so quickly.

“I've come to ask for your help,” he corrected. “Rumor has it the Violet Witch is not to be trifled with. The way things are going, the Pact could use someone like you. Not as a soldier or a scholar or a spy but… as a witch.”

Hathrin's eyes had gone wide. “You… Well, you certainly know how to speak my language.”

Devryth smiled a bit at that. “From one wanderer to another, taking pride is vital. I was already curious about the way you called yourself a witch but… I think I get it now? Because I'm not a soldier, even though I joined the Vigil. I'm not a scholar, despite having my head in a book my entire childhood. And I'm certainly no spy. I'm just… me. But I care. And you wouldn't have let me in today if you didn't, too.”

“Caring about an old ally isn't the same as caring about the world,” she deflected, though a smile had graced her face.

“Is that what we were? Allies?” He asked.

“You helped me work up the courage to befriend my crush, I kept Solicass from threatening yours,” Hatrhin explained with a shrug. “It was a beneficial arrangement.”

Devryth couldn't help but laugh. It was refreshing, more so than he could process, to hear the past spoken about so lightly after so long. “Be that as it may, I was hoping we could leave such unfamiliarity behind and I could perhaps leave here today with a new friend.”

Hathrin took a look around the room, brows pinching together as she contemplated his words. “Give me the night to consider your offer. I've built a life here. Not much of one but… My research is important to me. But you're right -- so is everything else.”

Devryth meditated on his next words. “Is there, ah, any chance I could steal your couch for the night?”

That earned him an eye-roll. “I'm not kicking you out, genius. Friends don't kick friends out into the cold. Especially when they still want to grill the other on exactly what they've been doing all these years.”

“Joy…” Devryth muttered sourly, though he still couldn't hide the smile growing on his lips. “So, we're friends no matter what?”

“Sure. Been a while since I’ve had one. Might be fun.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, it's wiki time once again...
> 
> So, Devryth is my main when it comes to actually playing the game and not just writing about it lol. As such in this little extra-fictional storyline I've left him with the honor of being The Commander. Added to this, given he's a Vigil guy, he also has the title of "Warmaster" as I believe that's the highest you -- the player -- get in the Vigil. Do I really know if that carries over once you start the Pact with Trehearne? Nope! But even if you technically completely leave your Order behind after Level 60's personal story, I like to think it's still an honorary title lol. The wiki describes the rank as: "Leaders of the Vigil. A title reserved for those renowned for skill in weapons or strategy. There are multiple levels of warmasters, as some are in command of other warmasters themselves." As is often the case, I couldn't find any info on those "multiple levels" lol. There is, of course, the "Grand-Warmaster" rank but something tells me that's not what was being referred to.
> 
> Hathrin! Her character was a really fun opportunity to go all out with a different theme. So she's my "witch" character. I haven't really found anything about witches being a real part of the GW2 world outside of like,, the krait, so to Hathrin, it means that, Mesmer though she may be, she draws from all the gods and all sources of power, expanding her skillset. I've also described her as having left the Vigil and that she used to be a Crusader. I've already talked about the crusader role previously so I'll spare the words here.


End file.
